


Boutique

by TheJulyCentury



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien being a hot mess, Adrinette, F/M, Marichat, but also kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:18:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJulyCentury/pseuds/TheJulyCentury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Marinette opens an online store, Adrien is hormonal, and Alya is bae.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grand Opening

"Okay, I’m ready."

"Come on Marinette, go for it!"

"Okay okay okay— here goes!"

And with a click of a button, Marinette’s online store went public.

 

* * *

 

Alya had always told her that her work was good enough to sell.

Her parents had told her the same.

Though it wasn’t until “Where did you buy that _______? I have to have one!” became such a regular question (to which she always had to answer that there was NOWHERE to buy the scarf or dress she had made) that she had decided to open an online store.

It had been months and months since she had begun working towards her goal. She had decided to make the store completely commission-based, but that meant she needed to have an example of at least one of every available design she was offering, which meant quite a lot of prep work had to be done before it could take off.

She tossed her pencil to the side and buried her face in her arms.

“Alya,” Marinette groaned, “I know I’m doing this to showcase my originality, but I need some surefire hits if I want to break even. What’s something that’s sure to be popular?”

 Her best friend looked up from her book, seeming to mull the question over for a good three seconds before saying “Why not make some Ladybug- or Chat Noir-themed designs?”

Marinette sat straight up.

“A-Alya... I don’t know— Do you really think? —I mean I don’t want to seem like too much of a fan or anything…" she trailed off.

_I mean I don’t want any more connections between me and Ladybug than there needs to be,_ she thought. But on the other hand... There was no copyright violation, and so much room for artistic freedom...

“Do you really think designs inspired by Ladybug and Chat would sell?” She finally asked, squinting at her friend.

Alya smiled and tilted her head.

“Do you know how many followers my Ladyblog has? Ladybug and Chat Noir are adored by the entire city! No, country! I even have a large amount of followers from Korea! This could work really work out well!”

 

* * *

 

Alya nearly had a fit upon walking into Marinette’s bedroom and seeing her taking photos of one of her finished prototypes displayed on her dressform.

“Mari, _tell me_ you aren’t going to use those photos for your store,” She said in the most "mother knows best" she had voice.

“Who are you trying to market to? You need flair! You’re trying to sell these dresses to young girls, not other dressforms! You need to show them photos that make them want to be in the model's place. And not many girls want to be a headless torso.

“You,” said Alya, plopping herself down on Marinette’s chaise lounge, “need a model.”

Marinette sighed, hanging her head and turning to face her friend. “Look Alya, the thing is...you know materials are expensive, and when I made all of these, I designed them so that I would be able to wear them later.”

“Ooookay...Where's the problem in that?”

“I tailored them to fit me exactly, Alya, just like the dress form has its dimensions in my size! If anyone else but the dress form were to model them, it would be the wrong fit, and I don’t want to advertise ill-fitting clothing to potential customers.” She gave her best friend a pained face. “Not to mention I can’t afford a model, seeing as I haven’t started selling anything yet.”

“Marinette… Why do you sound like you just explained the problem to me, when you just presented the solution?”

She waited a few seconds for Marinette to realize it, but when the confused face of her best friend didn’t seem show any signs of connecting the dots, Alya leaned back and smiled.

“Honey, it’s so simple. You just have to model your own clothes.”

“I couldn’t!” gasped Marinette, a look of terror flashing across her face instead of simple bashfulness. “W-what if Adrien were to see? He’s the real deal, if he were to see pictures of me pretending to model I’d just DIE. I’d DIE, ALYA.”

Sighing, Alya walked over to Marinette and placed an arm over her shoulders. “Girl, how can an aspiring designer not have enough faith to model their own designs? Wouldn't it help show your potential customers your confidence in your work?” She gave Marinette’s shoulder a squeeze. “Besides, Adrien won’t see what you don’t show him, right?”

 

* * *

 

Fast forward several months and many late nights later, and the two girls sat huddled around Marinette’s computer, two bottles of coke on the desk waiting to be opened.

“Okay, here goes!” gasped Marinette as she clicked the _“OPEN STORE TO PUBLIC”_ button.

A small animated graphic of balloons being released over a banner that said “Grand Opening!” played across the screen.

Alya grabbed the cokes and passed one to Marinette. They clinked them together.


	2. Mint Chocolate and Thigh Highs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette is both successful and unsuccessful.

It was a Thursday, and the classroom was relatively quiet as most of the students had not come back from lunch yet.

Adrien leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes. If Nino didn’t get back from lunch soon they wouldn’t have time to watch the new One Punch Man episode together before before class started.

He heard the door open and close, and the sound of two people walk past him, chattering excitedly.

“I’m telling you, putting a link to it on the blog is a great idea!”

“You’re probably right, I’m just a bit nervous is all.”

“I’ll make a post about it as soon as school is over.”

Marinette and Alya must be back from lunch

“Fans of Ladybug everywhere will go crazy!”

His ears perked up.

“Hey, don’t forget about Chat Noir fans,” Marinette interjected. “I’m sure they’ll be happy too.”

Adrien bit back a smile. He was glad they sat behind him and couldn’t see his face. Marinette was sweet. At least he had one fan for sure.

Although she was always a bit stiff around him and never seemed to want to talk to him for long, he remembered how she had gushed over Chat Noir when he had first introduced himself to her in his hero guise. **  
**

But what were they talking about putting on the Ladyblog?

He couldn’t turn around and ask without outing himself as Ladybug trash. He would just have to wait for school to end.

...and for the fencing meet to end…and the fitting for the new spring collection photoshoot to end...

* * *

 

_“Hey all you Ladybums and Fanaticats!_

_Alya here with a special message for you! As of today, you will now be able to flaunt your appreciation of our favorite heroes in a whole new way._

_Boutique Petit Rouge, an online fashion store featuring handmade clothing with custom sizing, also boasts a line of clothing and accessories inspired by none other than the power couple themselves!_

_Slots fill up quickly, so place your orders while you still can!_

_International shipping available ;D_

_-Alya”_

Marinette blushed while Alya read the new post out loud. “Alya, your post makes it sound as if I were a professional or something”

Alya spun around in the swivel chair and gave her best friend a grin.“With the number of hits this post has already, you might be one soon.”

“WHAT? Let me see!”

She scrambled up and dashed to the computer screen. She gasped when she looked at the amounts of likes and shares the post had. “Alya, you barely posted this a few minutes ago!” Alya gestured her hands wide. “What can I say, Mari? The followers of the Ladyblog number in the millions.”

* * *

It was dark by the time Adrien finally got home, exhausted. Plagg tumbled out of his bag.

“Hell, kid, I thought I was never going to breathe fresh air again!” Plagg complained as he settled on Adrien’s shoulder. “And all that jostling! I’m going to have nightmares.”

“Sorry Plagg. Trust me, I feel just as shoved around as you do. At least you got to snack during.”

He slowly eased his shoes off his aching feet.

“I’m going to go take a shower, Plagg. Then-”

“Then your obsessive nightly check of the Alya girl’s blog, I presume?”

Adrien grinned

“You say it like it’s a bad thing”

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later found Adrien sitting in front of his myriad screens, wearing his favorite polka dotted pajamas, and drying his fluffy damp hair. 

“You smell like mint,” said Plagg, wrinkling his nose. "And jasmine."

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “And you would prefer I smell like…?”

“Camembe-”

“Why did I even ask- Lets check the Ladyblog ok."

He opened the bookmark, and began inspecting the update.  _Online store?_ He clicked the link.

All his screens were suddenly filled with a floral pink and white design. The curly white text at the top of the page read

**“Boutique Petit Rouge: _Handmade With Love, By Me For You”_**

He clicked on the link that read _Gallery_.

Suddenly his screens were full of Marinette. 

Marinette standing at a bus stop wearing a light blue dress with a white collar. Marinette sitting at a fountain eating an ice cream, wearing a pink and white striped jumper. _This girl could model professionally._ Marinette smiling while she-

“Getting a bit sidetracked, aren’t we?” Plagg meowed in his ear.

Adrien gave his kwami a guilty smile and halfway reluctantly started looking for the line mentioned on the Ladyblog.

“This must be it right here.”

He clicked on a subcategory titled “Miraculous” underneath the Gallery banner.

The Miraculous Accessories page opened first, showing several hats, bags, and hair accessories (he recognized several of his classmates as the models- Rose with ladybug hairclips, Mylene sporting a ladybug bag). He was about to click the Ladybug Inspired Clothing tab when he realised underneath it was

 ****_Chat Noir Inspired Clothing_

He hesitated a moment, then clicked it first, selecting  _Sweaters_ from the drop down menu, hoping he could find one that looked unisex.

Marinette stared at him from the screen.

Her big blue eyes were mesmerizing in the dark of his room. She was smiling like he had never seen her smile before, yet somehow looked perfectly familiar.

She was sitting on what appeared to be a big fluffy white bed, surrounded by pillows and chocolates wrapped in green foil. _Mint_ , he thought. She was wearing a black oversized sweater with a kitty nose and big green eyes across the chest. He couldn’t help but note it was hanging off one slender, pale, freckle-dusted shoulder. _Have I ever seen her shoulders before? I can’t remember._   _No I'd definitely remember if I had._

A cat-eared beanie covered her black hair, which was tied in loose pigtails with green ribbons.

_She was even wearing a choker with a little gold bell. And thigh highs. Oh my god._

If there were shorts under that Chat Noir sweater, he sure as hell couldn’t tell.

It was one thing knowing Marinette was a fan of Chat Noir, but seeing her like this...it almost felt like marked territory. He had a strong urge to look through the other gallery listings right then and there but...

He bookmarked the Boutique’s page and turned off his computer.

“What’s the matter, aren’t you going to look at the rest of the designs? I thought you’d been waiting all day. Or has your ego been sufficiently stroked?” Plagg asked.

Adrien flopped into bed and pulled the covers around him. “I’m tired, Plagg. I’ll look at the rest of it tomorrow”

_It’ll give me something to look forward to._

* * *

 

 **KittyCat_Black**  commented on your item  _ **Chat Noir Sweater** :_

Does the sweater come with the princess inside, or must they be bought separately? ;3


	3. White Shirts and Suspender Skirts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette is sweet and Adrien is sour.  
> (Beta work done by the wonderful Mirthalia)

For the first time in weeks, Marinette woke up before her alarm.

Not because she had had a good night’s rest, but because her phone was beeping every few minutes to let her know she had an incoming notification.

She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Tikki could you hand me my...” she trailed off, gesturing in the direction of the noise.

Tikki swooped down and picked up her phone from the desk.

“MARINETTE! MARINETTE!!” her kwami squealed, and the phone she was carrying collided with the girl’s face. “Look!”

The bright white of her phone was an assault on her tired eyes as she squinted at her screen.

2... 2,634 notifications.

The pain of the bright screen was forgotten as her eyes widened in shock.

_2,634 messages for her on her Boutique._

 

* * *

 

 

“GIRL, sit still for 5 seconds and give yourself a pat on the back!”

She and Alya were sitting on the front steps of the school, waiting for the doors to open for the day. They had spent the last 15 minutes going through all of the messages to the Boutique Petit Rouge (now up to 2,721).

Most of the messages were comments and compliments on the designs she had up for sale, questions about sizes, and so on, though a good number of people had placed orders already.

“Ooh honey look at this comment!” Alya cried, shoving her phone in front of her friend’s face. “They’re totally making a pass at you! They even called you princess!”

Marinette grabbed the phone and stared at the comment.

 

_**KittyCat_Black** commented on your item **Chat Noir Sweater:**_

_Does the sweater come with the princess inside, or must they be bought separately? ;3_

 

Her stomach did a little twist.

That cat and his giant ego. Of _course_ he would find her store. He was always on top of any news or merch concerning himself. He probably thought anything with so much as a paw print on it was meant as a direct homage to him.

She scoffed and handed the phone back to Alya. Her friend had a wide grin plastered on her face as she took back her device. “I told you modeling the clothes yourself would help them sell. Though…” Alya looked back at the Boutique page. “Your designs are pretty much marketed to young girls. So I’m guessing this KittyCat_Black is also a girl…?”

“MARINETTE, YOU LESBIAN HEARTBREAKER!” Shouted Alya, clapping a hand on her friend’s back.

Right as a familiar white Benz pulled up in front of the school.

 

* * *

 

The commute to school was always quiet. Plagg couldn’t be out because of the driver, and the driver wasn’t one for chitchat (and honestly, Adrien couldn’t imagine what he would even want to say to his large, surly chaperone). So he sat in silence.

The car rolled to a halt and he looked out the window. It was still pretty chilly in the mornings, though the days were getting warmer. More and more classmates were getting to school early to hang out on the steps and socialize before the first morning bell.

He could pick out Kim and Juleka going over something in a book, and Nathanaël talking to a pretty upperclassman who was leaning over his shoulder to look at his sketchbook. And at the furthest end of the stairs he could see Alya and…Marinette.

He opened the door to step out...

...Just in time to hear Alya yelling something that sounded an awful lot like “—ESBIAN HEARTBREAKER!”

He turned his head towards the noise and saw Marinette look from Alya to him with an expression of pure horror. He stared back dumbly.

She immediately grabbed her bag and her and ran towards the school door, tugging hard in a vain attempt to open it.

As luck would have it, the bell rang and the door opened. And before Adrien could really formulate a complete thought, Marinette had bolted through the doors, followed by a small crowd of other students.

He realized with a rueful grin that he hadn’t even gotten a good look at what she was wearing.

 

* * *

 

Adrien opened his locker and rummaged around, collecting his books. Glancing at the small mirror he had on the inside of the door, he ran a hand through his hair.

He looked like shit. Probably because he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.

Suddenly a pair of black pigtails flashed by in the mirror, distracting him with pretty much the only thing he currently found more interesting than his own reflection.

Marinette’s voice was breathless and high pitched from behind him as she called out a “Good morning!”, and he was right about to respond when he heard Rose reply with a “Good morning, Marinette!”

_Shit, nice faux pas that would have been. Come on Adrien, are you a cool cat or one of those dogs that jumps up and slobbers on unsuspecting people?_

Annoyed, Adrien closed his locker and put his books in his bag. He was about to sling his bag over his shoulder and just walk away, but…

He set his bag down on the floor and turned around instead. Leaning his back against the locker, he crossed one leg over the other and slid his hands in pockets, lounging with all the casual ease of a model.

“ _Psst._ Adrien, what are you doing? Stop posing! Get to class and give me that cheese you promised,” whispered Plagg.

“I’m not posing, Plagg. I’m just enjoying the view.”

He looked across the locker room to where the two girls were standing. Rose was wearing a long-sleeved pink dress and furry boots. She even had little pink earmuffs. He gave an internal nod of approval.

 _And now for my fangirl,_ he thought, as he ran his eyes up the back of Marinette's legs and over her shoulders. Small ankle-length boots with a bit of a heel. Black tights. Green suspender skirt ending about mid thigh. A soft looking white shirt. A soft looking neck. Soft looking hair...

“I saw your store last night! It looks so great— I feel so special that you asked me to model those pins for you,” gushed Rose. Marinette’s smiling eyes looked fondly down at her.

“Aw, Rose, I’m the one that feels special. I’m sorry I couldn’t pay you, but I made you some cookies. I’m so grateful to you guys for modeling for me. I don’t know any models and I honestly didn’t know who to ask.”

Adrien snapped back to reality as he heard those words. The annoyance flooded back, and he hurriedly picked up his backpack and walked off to class.

 

* * *

 

“Pssst! Come _on_ , Adrien— I need my cheese!” hissed Adrien’s bag.

He ignored Plagg and sat down with a huff, his mind still in the locker room.

What did Marinette mean when she said she didn’t know any models? _He_ was a model. She knew _him_ , didn’t she? Why hadn’t she asked _him?_ Surely out all all of her classmates he would have been the obvious choice. Why had _he_ been jilted?

Come to think of it, if it weren’t for the fact he checked the Ladyblog every night, he never would have even known about the store.

Okay, now he just plain felt left out.

 

* * *

 

Marinette walked into the classroom, carefully tip-toeing past Adrien, who had his head down on his desk.

She set her stuff down as quietly as possible, then walked up the stairs to where Nathanaël was sitting.

 

* * *

 

From his hiding place in his own arms, Adrien heard a voice in the back of the classroom.

“Hey Nath~ Oh no, it’s okay, you don’t have to put your sketchbook away! I just wanted to give this to you. As thanks for volunteering to model that hat for me.”

That was the breaking point.

He had tried to rationalize that the reason Marinette hadn’t asked him to model was because he was a guy, and she didn’t need any male models. But she had asked _Nath_. Marinette had asked NATHANAËL. NATHANAËL THE SHRINKING VIOLET. NATHANAËL THE TOMATO. NATHANAËL WHO OBVIOUSLY WOULD HAVE DONE IT FOR FREE SO THAT HE COULD MAKE A MOVE ON HER.

Why couldn’t she see that? Why would she let the crazy guy with the crush on her model for her? Why didn’t she ask him instead? _He_ was a much safer choice.

He heard Marinette make her way back to her seat.

He was half a second away from turning around in his seat to talk to her, when the bell rang and rest of the class began to file in.

With a frustrated noise, he put his head back on the desk.


	4. A Man of My Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Marinette is either very lucky or very unlucky and Adrien is either very selfless or very selfish.

Finally the last bell of the day rang.

The day had been a long one, but Marinette was still on cloud nine.

She walked down to the locker room, smiling to herself as she opened the locker door. The inside had been decorated in the same pattern as the background of the Boutique website and her heart swelled at the sight of it.

_God I love my classmates. I love Alya. I love fashion. I love people that love fashion._

She closed her locker door.

_I love-_

“A-ADRIEN!” She yelled as she realized he was leaning against the locker next to hers.

Facing her.

Staring at her.

Had he been waiting for her to close her locker?

“Hey Marinette! I just wanted to congratulate you!” He said in his perfect voice. Wearing his perfect smile.

“C-co-congratulate me? D-did I do something wrong?” _ugh fuck. get it together_

“No...? I don’t think so? But I heard from our classmates that you opened an online boutique? It sounds like it’s been a success."

She gaped at him. _If he had seen her website...there is no god._

“Anyway, everyone is congratulating you for your hard work, and I feel bad that I don’t have anything for you, so I thought I’d offer you a special deal.” He winked. “I heard you telling Alya in biology that you still had a few pieces you needed to get photos of, and if you need a model, I’d love to offer my services.”

He leaned forward and grinned in an almost expectant kind of way.

She wanted to run screaming out of the building. She wanted to delete her entire website right then and there. No way she could let him see those photos of her.   _But it’s thanks to the website that Adrien Agreste is standing right in front of me. Offering to model for me. Maybe god is real._

She couldn’t pass this up no matter what.

“W-well yes! I do. I do have clothes. I mean of course I have clothes but I have clothes I haven’t taken photos of yet. Though I’m not sure you would want to wear them. And I have to take the photos tonight so you probably won’t have t-time. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to wear them anyway.”

Adrien furrowed his brow a bit. And put his hand on her shoulder. “Marinette, I’m sure anything that you make would look wonderful. I have free time until six, we can go do this right now. If you want.”

 

* * *

“O-ok. We’re here. Let me just stuff the get ready! I mean get the stuff ready! I mean…” her grin looked physically pained. “...let’s go in”

She opened the door to her room and led the way.

Adrien looked around with interest. He had never been in girl’s room before. Though he was pretty sure they weren’t all filled with fabric and a sewing machine and half-finished garments.

He glanced over to Marinette. She was staring at her room with her mouth open as if she had just seen it for the first time.

“Oh god oh god I’m sorry! It’s such a mess! I’ve just been so busy lately I hadn’t realized it was so bad!” He watched as she ran around and hastily tried to tidy the place up.

He grabbed her arm. “Marinette- It’s fine. I know how busy you are. I mean, you’re running a business now! Don’t even sweat it.” He have her a smile. She gave him a weak grin.

“O-ok. I’ll just go get the pieces ready then! I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She made a move as if to leave but then stopped and looked up at him.

“U-um, Adrien?” She was blushing. _Hardcore blushing. Damn._

“C-can you...” she looked away for a second and bit her lip. _Whatever she was about to ask the answer was definitely going to be yes._

“...let go of my arm?”

“Huh?”

“OH. Of course!” He let go of of her as if she had burned him. “Good luck uh, getting the thing” He said as she left the room.

He sank down into her desk chair. _I’m an idiot._

He heard Plagg snicker.

Sighing, he leaned back in her chair and looked around him at the room.

_Marinette’s room, huh?_

He didn’t see the bed from the Chat Noir sweater photo. _Maybe it wasn’t her bed?_ He shook his head. That wasn’t even relevant.

It was a nice room. Not as big as his, but honestly, who’s was? There were some photos on the wall, sketchbooks on the ground, half sewn dresses hanging up.

One of her dresser drawers was open, and there was something red with black polka dots hanging out. Maybe something Ladybug-inspired?

He walked over to get a better look, but stopped as the contents of the drawer came into view.

_Bra._

_It was a bra._

 

* * *

 

Marinette hummed as she walked back to her attic room, holding the clothes that needed to be modeled. She couldn’t believe her luck.

_Adrien. Adrien Agreste is in my house. Adrien Agreste is in my house and is about to model for me._

Marinette opened the door to her room and climbed through. “Adrien I have the-”

She was interrupted by a startled yelp.

Adrien was standing in the middle of her room. His face was kind of red. Really red. _OH NO. WAS IT TOO HOT IN HER ROOM? What was the thermostat set at?? Ugh he must hate her for leaving him in a messy, stuffy, hot room…_

“S-sorry Marinette! You just startled me!” He tugged at his collar. “Do you have the clothes? Let’s get started!”

 

* * *

 

She apologized for the fifth time.

“I-I really tried to warn you that you wouldn’t want to wear it! But it’s the only stuff I still need photos of…”

She had spread the items out on the chaise lounge. She rubbed her hand nervously as he stared at the pieces.

“Marinette, I look good in anything, don’t worry.” He said with a roguish grin.

"Where should I get changed?”

“There’s a bathroom downstairs you can use.”

He gathered up the fabric and made his way down the ladder.

“See you in a few minutes, then?”

 _I’m a man of my word. I’m a man of my word…_ he repeated to himself as he climbed down.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Plagg rushed out and landed on the counter, wheezing through fits of laughter.

“You brought this on yourself! You little kitty with your huge ego- couldn’t bear to not be in the spotlight! Well now you got what you wanted!”

Adrien flushed. “Plagg! I’m doing this as a favor to Marinette!” Plagg’s eyes narrowed.

“A favor? She never asked you to do this. She obviously doesn’t even need you to do this. I mean look at what you’re going to be modeling! It’s probably one she was going to model herself.”

There was no arguing with that. Adrien held up the clothes. A red crop top with black spots. Small black shorts. Red knee-highs.

“I’m a man of my word, Plagg,” he repeated as he pulled his shirt off over his head.


	5. Re-purr-cussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell continues to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to delete my AO3 account when I realized this fic had multiple pages of sad comments asking about updates.
> 
> I've been sitting on the next two chapters for the better part of a year and thought I may as well revise and post them over the next few days.
> 
> Please Enjoy

Luckily for Adrien, both the Ladybug crop top and the shorts were made out of stretchy material. Otherwise he was at least 90% sure he never could have gotten into them.

Adrien put his foot up on the toilet and proceeded to pull a sock all the way up to his knee. Plagg let out a low whistle (or as low as a tsum-tsum sized cat CAN whistle).  
"I guess you weren't lying to the girl when you said you looked good in anything."

"Plagg. Do you know how many magical talking cats get flushed down the toilet each year? You’d hate to become a statistic.”

 

* * *

  

Marinette sat on the rug fiddling with the camera.  _I’m going to need all the extra space I can get,_ she thought as she deleted old photo after old photo.  
Her thumb stilled it's methodical deletion of old photos at the sound of the trap door creaking. She whipped around right as Adrien Agreste’s beautiful fluffy blonde head peeked up into the room.

“Are you all set up? Should I come in?” he asked. She jumped up. “O-of course! I’m all set! Just waiting for you. Mr. Model.”  _Mr. Model??? DID I REALLY JUST CALL HIM MR. MODEL??  Who is writing my dialogue??._

Mr. Model, however, seemed completely at ease at being recognized as such and gave her a smug grin and crawled up through the doorway. She was about to ask him if he had gotten into the outfit alright, but as soon as she could see the handiwork in action the question died on her lips.

_Oh he’s gotten into it alright. More than alright._

 The first thing that occurred to her was “Why don’t I own any photos of Adrien’s bare legs?” Because keeping those legs hidden away in pants all the time now seemed like a crime against humanity. The mid-thigh shorts he was supposed to be wearing were riding almost scandalously high, and the knee-length socks didn’t quite make it all the way up to his knees. But all of these facts - instead of contributing to the fact he was wearing ill-fitting clothes - only exaggerated the illusion of his long ~~perfect~~ legs. So long, so smooth, so sculpted. But five seconds into her celebrating this new reason to love having eyes, his legs were almost immediately forgotten as soon as she saw the rest of him.    
_I’ve figured out what was missing in my life. Adrien Agreste in a crop top._

Slender torso...his beautiful arms...

Without really thinking about what she was doing, Marinette brought the camera up to her face and snapped a shot.

 “Ah! Wait you gotta give me some warning! I’m a pretty great model but still-”

 “Aaah sorry! Shit I-I’m so sorry! I just got so excited seeing the way your- I mean seeing my clothes being worn so well! You wear them good!” she stammered, hands waving furiously. He blinked. He looked down at himself and ran a hand across the fabric on his chest.

“You think so?”

“O-of course! You look so pretty! You could almost pass for a girl!”  _Shit. shitttt. This is now how you hit on guys._

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he walked over to her. “Is that so? Well don’t go falling for me, _lesbian heartbreaker.”_

________________________________

 

"Wait, put your arm up a bit like...yeah." The camera clicked. "Alright well that should do it! You can go change now, if you want." But Adrien made no move to leave just yet. He stood in the middle of the room and looked down at the shirt he was modeling.

"I have one question first"

"Shoot"

“So, Marinette, if this is a Ladybug crop top, do you have Chat Noir one?”

 

“Oh! Um well yes and no. I figured a complement would be better than a set, so the Chat Noir blouse is a bit different. It’s more like…you know…well when I was making it I thought if I…well…I’m not explaining this very well, but I really like how it turned out...”.  He saw a chance and took it. “Well if you can’t describe it, do you have a photo of it?” 

 “NO!”

 “Oh…so it’s not available in your store?”

 “It is! But don’t look for it the uh…photos didn’t even turn out well…it’s really quite a bad shirt I'm just realizing at this very moment please don’t look for it.”  
  
“But you just said you really liked it?”

 “WOW WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME?”

 

* * *

 

  
  
_Mon chaton… my kitty…my partner….my friend._

He loved the way ladybug called him hers. And he wanted to be hers. And as far as he was concerned he _was_ hers.

He’d gladly deck himself out in a red and black polka-dotted crop top if it meant showing her the photos later and saying _“Don’t you think this guy is handsome? And look what he’s wearing. All those spots. That guy definitely has a crush on you”_  
  
He turned over and put his cheek to a cooler part of the pillow.

 _I’d gladly wear my Lady’s spots for the rest of my life,_ he thought sleepily

 

 _"So long as Mari keeps wearing black and green,"_ he muttered into his pillow and the promptly went the fuck to sleep without really realizing what he had just said.

 

* * *

 

“Dude,” Nino said as he leaned back, looking at his phone. A phone that he was holding an entire arm's length away. “You better hope you father never sees this.”

 With a small laugh, Adrien flopped down on his bed. “You know what, Nino? He's probably just mad that an amateur fashionista was the first one to capitalize on my slutty teen model phase. _"_ Nino lowered the phone and looked at his best friend (who was currently staring at the ceiling, pillow clutched to his chest).

 “Buddy that brings me to ask, why DID you do it?” Nino narrowed his eyes. “I mean you aren’t hurting for money, so it totally would have been a dick move to make a few bucks off Marinette, but I know there was no money involved so…”

 Adrien lifted turned his head in a Nino-ly direction. “Altruism?” He said with an attempt at an innocent grin.

 The trash can fell over with a crash and a miaou.

 

* * *

  

She could handle a lot of things easily when she was Ladybug. Top on the list were heights, sharp things, danger, and Chat Noir.  
  
But right now, she was, unfortunately, not Ladybug.

And was having particular trouble with the last item on the list.

Sure, she could play Chat Noir like a fiddle when she had a specific plan in mind, but when you’re just sitting on your balcony painting your nails in your pajamas, minding your own business when your coworker suddenly appears _then it’s quite normal to fall of your chair and throw a half full bottle of “Red-dy and Willing” at his head,_ she decided.

"I hear a little lady has been going around infringing on my copyright. If I weren't such a genius playboy billionaire philanthropist, I might start charging.” He said after seating himself on the railing a few feet away.  
“Ok, Mr. Asscat first of all: good job on ducking that nail polish. Second: _charging_?” she scoffed. “Look me in the eye and tell me this isn’t the biggest ego-stroking you’ve had since Kyary Pamyuu Pamyuu said you were adorable in that interview last fall.”

"Hey! Ok first of all, I’m not adorable- I’m manly as hell. Something must have been lost in translation” 

“Ah yes. Kawaii. The Japanese word for manly.” She said with a face as straight as Kim on a good day (which is to say she was grinning). "Face it, Chat. You’re just mad that all the little boys want to grow up to be Ladybug and all the girls want to pet you behind the ears.” 

He his face looked a bit helpless for a second before he apparently decided to switch gears.

“…and are you one of those girls, Ms. Designer?”

 _No, I’m Ladybug._ She thought with a pursing of her lips.

“I thought we’d already established I’m just an evil entrepreneur off to turn a profit by jacking your style.”

“And I thought I’d already established that I have absolutely nothing against you wearing my clothes. I wish you all the succe-Uh."

His mind caught up with his words. Marinette was staring him right in the eye, wearing an expression of such disbelief she could have been his father on the day he came home in a pair of borrowed crocs.

"I didn’t mean it like that.”

She threw a pillow at him.

“You little ball of narcissism! You just want to see every girl walking down the street with “CHAT NOIR” written across the back of their sweatpants”

“YOU SELL THOSE?” 

“NO. I DON’T. AND I NEVER WILL. NOW GET OFF MY ROOF AND GO BACK TO WHEREVER YOU CAME FROM. YOUR HOUSE OR THE HOUSE OF THE NICE OLD LADY WHO FEEDS I DON’T CARE BUT _GO."_

And she sat back down. The words CHAT NOIR pressing into the bottom of her chair. 


	6. Spilled Coke and White Collars

After taking photos of the Ladybug crop top she had made, Marinette was proud to say that her boutique site was officially up and running.

Due to the fact she was a full-time high school student (not to mention one of Paris’s 24/7 on-call superheroes), she valued the cost of her time a lot. So naturally it followed that anything custom made by her was going to cost a hell of a lot more than its mass-produced equivalent.

And although she so badly wanted to do gladly accept all the incoming commissions (just because of the pure surge of gratefulness she had for all those strangers willing to take a chance on her) biting off more than she could chew was the last thing she wanted to do to herself, especially this early on.

“Order Slots Currently Full; please check back in a few weeks. -Marinette DuPain-Cheng”

 

* * *

 

But despite Marinette's greatly diminished reserves of free time, the school semester proceeded in full force. She ended up having to turn down an invitation to go see Deadpool with Alya…turn down an invitation to watch Alix’s roller derby game…several invitations to go the ice cream parlor...and even a desperate plea from Kim to film some idiotic-sounding stunt for a vine because Max “refused to be a willing participant”.

By the end of the month it became a known fact that unless Marinette Dupain-Cheng was between commissions- or unless you requested her services as a friend at least one (1) week in advance- she went straight home to work on boutique orders after school.

And though she had been commonly known to say things like “Sorry- I can’t go to the zoo with you, I have to work on another Chat Noir halter top after school,” whenever there was an akuma attack she would yell “I HAVE TO GO SEW. RIGHT NOW. BYE” and dash off. At these times she usually ran very fast in a direction that 80% of the time was not towards her house.

 

* * *

 

“Were you waiting long, Chat Noir?”

“You know I’ll wait as long as it takes, Bugaboo,” he replied with a wink.

The sun had set about thirty minutes ago, which meant she was about thirty minutes late for patrol.

“Wow, Chat! As long as it takes? Such devotion! I almost wish I had stayed home, now!” She laughed, swinging herself into the air. She landed on the sloping rooftop of the adjacent building, hearing the thump of steel-toed paws land behind her.

“Aw come now, Ladybug! Stay home? That’s not fair at all!”

“Not fair to you?”

“Not fair to the citizens of Paris! If one hero decides to sleep for a hundred years and the other hero would live out his days sitting on a rooftop waiting for her. Day after day. Vines grow around him. Pigeons sit on him. Akuma running rampant. Hawk Moth becomes Grand Overlord of Paris”.

“Feeling dramatic, tonight? Back your fantasies up a bit there, Kitty. I never said I wanted ditch you in order to sleep. I was just meeting some deadlines for some projects, alright?”

She leapt across an alleyway and onto a chimney. He followed closely.

“Heavy homework night? I feel you.”

She suddenly jerked to a halt. The yoyo she had swung out didn’t make it to it’s destination, instead thudding to the ground.

“Holy shit. I didn’t do my homework.”

“Wha-“ “PATROL IS CANCELLED, CHAT NOIR, IT'S CANCELLED! PARIS CAN BURN I HAVE GEOMETRY!" She yelled, already leaping back across the alley. “BYE!”

“Wai-” but she was already too far away to hear him.

 

 

* * *

 

“Marinette, Marinette. I have a little known fact for just for you" a small voice whispered in her ear. 

"Did you know that one time Chat Noir’s kwami wanted to prove he was just as good as a real cat by way of eating a live mouse?”

“hmmhuh?”

“It was about the size of his entire head and he still managed to fit it all in. But it wasn’t camembert, so he refused to swallow it. But his pride refused him the ability to spit it out so he ended just carried it around for almost an hour before he finally spat it up.”

Marinette nodded groggily and continued stumble up the stairs to the school.

“You should have seen it! Its fur was sticking up in odd directions. It was squinting like it had never seen sunlight before… it had been tinged purple because of his saliva…”

“Marinette are you understanding the meaning of this tale?”

“whaaaaaaaat?”

“You look like that mouse”

 

* * *

 

 

A loud voice lifted over the early morning chatter of the classroom. “Whoa! you look like something the cat dragged in!” 

Nathanaël peeked up over his sketchbook. Introvert he may be, but in the loop he intended to stay. But he felt a twinge of guilt for staring when he realized it was Marinette that had apparently been dragged in by the cat.

The pigtails he knew so well weren’t cinched up to their usual height. One of her shoelaces was coming undone. Her eyes looked like they'd seen every horror purgatory had to offer on a school night. But worst of all, what could have been another fashionable Marinette outfit (that he may or may not have been looking forward to drawing) was a large, black, bulky sweatshirt.

“Seriously Mari,” Nino continued, “Is your boutique taking that much out of you? Because if it is…”

“No, Nino it's not that…I have schedules for that…I didn’t pull an all-nighter sewing some a blue dress for some girl in Germany or anything…I just forgot about the homework until pretty late last night.”

“The geometry homework?”

“Yeah the geometry homework. …and the math problems…and the history essay…"

“Well at least that means you finished reading the book for French, right?”

“…”

“…”

But before Marinette could either A). Burst into tears B). Burst into flames C). Go bury her in Alya's comforting bosom (because Nino's didn't exactly cut it), she was interrupted by something thin, blonde, and screechy.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Are you seriously wearing that hideous sweater in my presence?” Chloe spat at her, while tugging the hem of the hoodie.

“Look Chloe, I know you prefer Ladybug, but there’s nothing illegal about wearing a Chat Noir sweater. It's the only thing that was clean, alright?”

“…THAT is a Chat Noir sweater?”

Marinette looked down.

…And immediately wanted to die.

Apparently she hadn’t been paying quite enough attention when taking it out of the dryer this morning because although it was definitely a black hoodie with green text, it it wasn’t the Chat Noir sweater. Not by a long shot. It wasn’t even her sweater. It was her father’s sweater. And apparently aspiring fashionista Marinette Dupain-Cheng had made it through the first 2 periods of class with the words “WHO’S YOUR DADDY” emblazoned across her chest.

 

* * *

 

 

Class had started ten minutes ago but the two girls were still in the bathroom, talking in loud, whispers. One of them was obviously distraught. “Alya I can’t go back out there wearing this!” Marinette hissed, gesturing at her father’s sweater.

“No one else but Chloe saw it but I bet she’s going to tell everyone I have some weird Chat Noir daddy kink and I’m never going to live this down. Someone’s going to take a photo and one day when I’m famous it’s going to resurface and no one will ever take me seriously again and Chat Noir will have to take responsibility and marry me because no one else will. Especially not Gabriel Agreste's _son_.”

“Take it off then?”

“…I’m not wearing a shirt underneath.”

“MARI WHY”

“I haven’t done laundry in a week! Don’t you dare judge me!”

“Then just…I don’t know, just turn it inside out!”

“I’D RATHER HAVE A DADDY KINK THAN HAVE PEOPLE ASSUME I CAN’T EVEN PUT ON A SWEATER RIGHT.”

“Okay okay, chill out. You stay here.” Reassured Alya, “And I… will go back to the classroom and see if anyone has a spare shirt you can borrow, all sneaky and on the down- low, alright?” Mari nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

Alya returned ten minutes later with her backpack.

“Okay lil missy so I tried to be sneaky about for the sake of your dignity, but Ms. Bustier is a goddamn hawk and called me out on whispering. So I stood up and said that I had spilled half a can of coke on you and you were at that very moment shivering in the bathroom in nothing but your very thin bra.”

“You didn’t” Marinette whispered in horror.

Alya continued.

“Good news is I asked Ms. Bustier for permission to do a quick coat-drive for the needy and she said yes. So I asked anyone had a shirt to lend you and let me just say they were quite generous.”

She then proceeded to start taking various shirts familiar shirts out of her backpack.

“Lets see…Nathanaël’s jacket…it doesn’t even have button or a zipper, what was he thinking, honestly…Mylene’s hoodie…she was wearing a tank top under it and looked pretty cold so I’d probably let her have it back…Kim tried to take his hoodie-shirt off for you but turns out he wasn’t wearing anything underneath either and Alix threw pencils at him till he put it back on… what else Choe put her jacket on the pile but I didn't even touch it. She looked insanely put out. I almost felt bad…oh yeah and this piece of trash here:"

“One bone-fide, white, collared, Agreste brand overshirt at your disposal, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.”

 

* * *

 

 

Adrien had a lot of stuff saved to his phone.

Photos of his mom, selfies with Nino, any cat memes he came across, a bunch of vines he could never post to the internet lest his father find out…and that one time a ladybug had landed on his hand during a lunch break and he took like two hundred photos of it. And a few days ago he had gone ahead and added every photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir merchandise Boutique Petit Rouge had to his collection.

It’s not creepy, he told himself. After all, I’m Chat Noir. And this is just photos of Chat Noir merch. There was Juleka with Chat Noir fingerless gloves…Alya with Ladybug glasses...Marinette in a Chat Noir halter-top…Marinette in a Chat Noir t-shirt…Marinette in a pink cocktail dress…wait shit that’s not supposed to be there.

At first he’d felt flattered, seeing all the hard work she put into making clothes that paid homage to him. Then, when he had seen how hard she was working toward her goals, he started feeling admiration. And the first time he had seen a stranger walking down the street wearing one of her designs he had felt pride. Not because it was a Chat Noir design or something (it wasn’t) but because ‘hell yeah Marinette was going places woohoo’.

So of course, when Alya had shown up to class ten minutes late and had to explain that Marinette was shivering naked shirtless in the bathroom he realized it was a chance to give back and do a favor for her. So he tossed his white over-shirt on the pile of jackets Alya was stuffing into her backpack. No biggie. Just fulfilling the philanthropist part of his genius playboy billionaire lifestyle, right?

And when Marinette came back from the bathroom five minutes later wearing his his shirt, he was all prepared to feel proud again. Proud that she had chosen his shirt. Proud that he was doing her a favor. Proud of his becoming better friends with the person that used to hate him.

And while he told himself it was just pride at doing her a favor, it didn’t feel like pride when he saw the way it just barely covered the pair of shorts she was wearing. 

It didn’t feel like pride when he realized the shirt was more translucent than he had assumed.

It didn’t feel like pride when he saw that the shirt that usually fell so flat on his chest rose to cover the gentle slope of her-

  _Altruism. Altruism. This is altruism.  Forget the playboy part you are merely a billionaire philanthropist. What you're feeling is merely the burning passion of righteousness that comes with any noble act. Nothing gives you a tingly feeling like helping out those in need, no sir. Adrien Agreste you are a bastion of selflessness and your mother would be proud so do not stare at her boobs as she walks towards her seat do not stare at her boobs do not-_

And then she was tapping his shoulder.

“T-thanks Adrien! It was still warm- I MEAN IT’S WARM IN GENERAL. A WARM SHIRT. UH. I hope you weren’t too cold without it? I’ll wash it for you and bring it around tomorrow then, yeah?”

 _"Yeah Marinette, tomorrow is fine"_ he thought.  _"Or you could just, like, wear it every Tuesday or something, if you want. No bother. I have loads of other shirts. You can borrow those, too, actually."_ _Or maybe I should say_   _"_ _Take good care of it, Marinette. That shirt is more important to me than my father, though it's just as boring and white. You know, maybe I should take a picture - just in case something happens to it."_

Marinette was still standing there. Fidgeting with the hem.

_Stop being stupid, she's waiting for a response! For the love of God, act natural!_

"Hey Marinette, is your middle name Embezzlement? Because you look so good in that white collar it's a crime."  


End file.
